CSI: Texts from Last Night
by DearSweetPapercut
Summary: Las Vegas, booze, and one night of debauchery involving the communication method of texting. Co-Written with Charlibubble.
1. Chapter 1

Well hello there, thank you for stumbling upon this- it's another of my projects with Charlibubble. We were looking at some of the hilarious posts on 'Texts from Last Night' and thought you know what we should do- we should use this for a story. And alas here it is one night of debauchery involving the communication method of texting.

Due to excessive deadlines, exams and dissertation thesis fun posting will probably be once a week until further notice.

This chapter is somewhat angst-er than I wanted it to be, but worry not, it shall get amusing and light hearted as it goes!

Enjoy and review, let us know what you think.

Disclaimer: We own zilch

**CSI: Texts from Last Night**

'_**Sorry honey...I'm buried under paper work...won't be able to make it to Vegas' – Grissom to Sara**_

Time was such a strange concept Sara thought as she stared at the clock, watching as the hands slowly made their way around the face covered in numbers the second hand ticking guilty despite her wants for it to stop. The watch wrapped around her wrist was doing no better. Waiting seemed to tire her out without movement despite the stillness of her body her mind seemed to be racing.

She wanted to call him. Her phone was sitting waiting for her to press the numbers and listen to dial tones. Sara had a feeling that even if she did- he wouldn't answer- he knew what would be coming his way. All of the needs for self preservation would kick in and he would be avoiding her hoping that she would cool down before they spoke the next time.

They had barely spoken in the past six months- every time resulting in an argument and the fall out being days, sometimes weeks, of silence. The cold shoulder across miles seemed to mean so much more than it would have done had he been there.

Sara wondered how neither one of them had managed to make a confession of how exhausted they were yet. Jet lag, unpacking, back log at work and all of the other things were starting to wear thin- and if she was honest she was starting to ask herself if it all worth it. Everything seemed to have stopped. Their relationship had come to a standstill.

She wasn't proud of her temper. But anger seemed to be the only thing left to prove that she still felt something for this man, that after all these years she hadn't given up on wanting him to love her as much she loved him. He had chased her- surely that should have been enough.

But as she waited contemplating how empty her life had become Sara realised that it wasn't- that it never would be.

The ghost of red wine lingered on her lips and she found herself suddenly craving another glass of the bitter liquid wanting anything to silence the thoughts that were haunting her. Watching as the substance trickled in the glass Sara wondered how things could have been in another life. She had recently found herself going through all the decisions she'd made wondering if she could have changed the position she had found herself in.

A long time ago she had attempted to convince herself to believe in fate- that all of these happenings weren't her fault but as she looked around at the empty house she realised that perhaps they were. She had been so good at pushing people away- maybe that was what she had done this time.

All of these years she and Gil had been learning how to be apart.

The only person she hadn't been able to push away all of these years had been Greg Sanders. Despite all of her flaws and all of the problems she had created he had stuck by her side throughout the past thirteen years. He had written her letters while she had been away, done his best to keep up with her travelling.

And once she had returned, he had welcomed her back with an embrace that hadn't changed in the time they had been apart.

His loyalty to her was unwavering and despite her best attempts at finding his affections frustrating she couldn't help but be endeared by the way he was protective of her despite knowing how much she had already been hurt, how observant he was of her moods and how loving he was.

They were so in tune with each other sometimes she would find herself caught off guard by the way their eyes would meet across the room, and the knowing glances shared between them.

He'd changed as the years that had gone by but she had barely noticed. She had found herself feeling breathless as it occurred to her she loved the sound of his laugh. All of the cigarettes had worn on, the husky low tones making her shiver when he spoke.

Sara had found herself watching him wondering how he had grown up so much without her noticing. He'd matured in so many ways; he had become the kind of man she knew his mother would have been proud of.

And she had decided to blame the high temperature of a city scattered in the centre of the desert for everything else she had noticed. The suits he now wore refused to hide the broadness of his shoulders, his strong arms and his physique. It had been during a heat wave that her car had broken down and in the end she had taken Greg up on his offer to take a look at it.

Standing by the front door she watched him as he leant across the engine, his tensed arms tinkering with wires. A slight frown furrowed on his brow as he leaned further towards the engine, the heat of the sun beat down on him painting droplets of sweat on his skin. Sara absentmindedly licked her lips, the glass of cold lemonade in her hands trembling slightly.

Greg stood upright, his arms smeared with oil as he wiped away the moisture from his brow. He took a deep breath, attempting to grasp some air from the surroundings but she knew it was futile in this heat. He was cooking out there, calming herself she took a breath and made her way across to him, the lemonade stretched out in front of her and her teeth gently biting into her lip. She wondered how she had been able to pass twelve years without noticing how desirable he was.

How he had turned from sweet to... well sexy.

Perhaps she should have chosen him- maybe things would have fallen into place. Sara knew that Greg would have given her the life she had always wanted, he would have always been by her side trying to make her smile. But for some reason she wondered why that hadn't seemed like enough to her all of those years ago.

"_Never ignore a person who loves you, cares for you, and misses you. Because one day, you might wake up from your sleep and realize that you lost the moon while counting the stars.__"_

She'd lost the moon. She'd missed her chance and given her heart away without thinking. Sara remembered how Greg had once told her that the good guy never gets the girl, not in real life. It hadn't occurred to her until now how true that had been.

Wearing your heart in your sleeve only seemed to ensure that it would one day get broken.

Sara wondered if Grissom could see how much every thoughtless action would hurt her- if he had chosen to ignore it all, thinking that it would be fine. Fighting with him had never seemed right and even now when all she wanted to do bring up everything she had forgiven in the past Sara couldn't face the idea of hurting him.

She had let go of too much to be able to turn back now. All of these years she had spent worrying that one step wrong would lead her to be replaced and every one of his misguided actions had been forgiven without hesitation but something had changed.

Despite every single one of her best efforts at not wanting to confess this Sara realised that she couldn't bring herself to lie anymore.

She was no longer in love with him.


	2. Chapter 2

Hope you all enjoy this! Sorry for the slow update- I oh so many deadlines in the past week!

**CSI: Texts from Last Night**

'_**My husband's staying in LA...Want to be my date for the night' – Sara to Greg**_

Greg leant back in his seat casting an eye around at the people that had gathered at there that night, drinks in their hands and dull conversations on their lips. If he was honest with himself he was glad to be on his own- to have time to just be. There was nothing for him to be worrying about, no one to be entertaining or no work to be done. His phone buzzed on the counter, Sara's name flashing across the screen, a smile tugging at his lips. It had been a good night- he hadn't thought about her much; he hadn't forced himself to think of his place in their relationship, her life.

"_You remember that time we went to that meeting on behalf of the grave shift and had to listen to Ecklie drone about statistics for two hours? Still more exciting than this x" _

He'd convinced himself not to think too much of the kisses she left at the end of messages, the way she'd hug him for a few seconds too long or the way their eyes would meet sometimes. They were just friends.

And yet it struck him that he wasn't surprised that she was messaging him when her husband was there, what surprised him was the content of the message. She shouldn't be bored right now- by all accounts she should be holding his hand over a candlelit dinner table or shivering in his arms as he twirled her around on the dance floor of a high end piano bar. If he were her husband he'd never let her leave the luxury of their bedroom, forever memorising the tiny details on her skin, and yet, she was bored.

Greg wondered, perhaps a little too hopefully, if the passion in her marital relationship had finally burned out or maybe Grissom had merely come all this way to satisfy a more primal urge before falling into a post coital slumber unaware of Sara's insatiable appetite for more. It was petty to make sex a contest but he had always wondered. Sara and Grissom had connected on an intellectual level but physically as their ex-boss aged he wondered if she still felt the same. Or if she had found herself craving someone who would keep up with her desires and wants. Someone...like...him...

Pushing those thoughts aside Greg considered the possibility that Grissom had yet more work to do or that they had suddenly run out of things to talk about and were staring mindlessly at the TV but something deep inside told him he knew the answer to all her boredom. He could easily read the hidden undertones in her message, she wasn't just bored; she was lonely and that could only mean one thing; Grissom had stood her up. (Yet again)

"So did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" A voice beside him questioned. Greg glanced up with a frown at the woman leaning against the bar, her sultry eyes focused on him as he watched her with what could not be described as baffled expression.

"I'm sorry" He frowned; shaking his head wondering if he'd misheard her.

"Well can't say it wasn't worth a shot" She gave him a smile, running her fingers through her glossy blonde hair. "It's a shame men get all the pick-up lines"

"It would be if any of them worked..." He raised his eyebrow taking a swing of his beer, placing his phone down not wanting to let Sara preoccupy his mind for yet another night. She was a grown woman. She could take care of herself.

"Give it a try" She quirked an eyebrow, her bright green eyes glistening with temptation in the dim light. She wasn't the usual type to be in here he noted wondering how a woman like her had found her way to such a rundown place. Then again most would probably think the same of him.

"Okay..." Greg clicked his tongue, attempting to think of the last time he'd attempted to pick up a woman in a bar. That thought alone reminded him of how long his dry spell had really been. "You're so beautiful you made me forget my pickup line..."

"Did I now...So are you going to buy me a drink?" She asked slipping down onto the stool next to him, her short blue dress slowly hitching up.

"Sure what can I get you?" Greg turned to the bar.

"A vodka martini" She told the bar tender before returning her attention to Greg. "I'm Casey" She offered her hand and he realised he had no choice but to shake it. A part of him wondered why she had chosen him of all the men in the bar to speak to.

"I'm Greg" He realised that Hodges would be soon enough- they had agreed to watch the game together that night. But as he quickly glanced at his watch he realised he hoped that he would cancel.

"So what do you do Greg?" Casey asked leaning forward, her eyes trained on him as the plunging neckline of her dress seemed to dip even lower. He caught himself following the edge of material, quickly looking away when he realised with a nervous glance at the bar tender who was giving her the once over.

"I'm a criminalist" He shrugged realising that working at the crime lab didn't really have the same appeal it did personally in the field of dating.

"That's interesting...so you solve crimes..." Her finger tips traced in small circles near his beer bottle- the bright red nail polish catching his eye. No wedding ring. Greg found himself noting consciously. "You like puzzles..."

"I do" He nodded wondering where she was going with this.

"Well...I'm not too complicated..." Resting a hand on his thigh she leant forwards muttering in his ear, her breath hitting his skin, the scent of her perfume more than a little overpowering. "Why don't we get out of here?"

The sound of his phone going off again seemed to distract him from having to answer- Sara's name once again flashing across the screen. He read the text carefully studying the words she had sent him way finding his heart filling with a strange sense of hope Casey almost being forgotten in an instance.

"I'm sorry" He pulled himself to his feet, picking up his jacket. "It was great meeting you...There's someone where I need to be"

As he stepped out into the night he realised that when it came to Sara he would have given up anything to make sure that she was okay. Over the years he had barely thought about all the dates and plans he had put aside to be with her but it dawned on him that he didn't care. The meaningless dates, the pointless lays didn't matter in the grand scheme of things.

After all of these years the way he felt about Sara hadn't changed. He still found himself feeling breathless when he was near her, she could still make him melt with nothing more than a smile and if she wanted she could have him, all of him if it would make her happy.

He was in love with her and he realised that perhaps he always would be.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry about the slow update- Charlie had this read to be posted for a while but I've had a lot of end of semester deadlines and have been swamped an completely forgot about it. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**CSI: Texts from Last Night **

_**'Hey sorry man- have a date won't be able to make tonight' Greg to Hodges.**_

A line of pristinely presented shirts stood before him, colour coded and pressed to within an inch of their lives. It was an important decision; what to wear. He had to choose something that made him look good but also implied that this 'man-date' (as Morgan had called it) was not the highlight of his social calendar.

There was also the added pressure of going to a bar, where there were women. Hodges couldn't really claim he was a regular to the bars Greg would take him to. Greg liked the off strip places with a thriving throng of customers filling the space. He liked the music to fill his ears and the drink to flow freely while he chatted to people he had never met before and admired the caliber of women these places attracted.

Hodges on the other hand prefered to hide out in bars with dark-wood booths and the overwhelming scent of disappointment in the air. On the rare occasions he took himself to a bar he liked the kind of place a person could disappear in. He liked to hide out in the corner becoming invisible as he nursed his white russian and judged the other patron's with an unforgiving glare.

His choice of shirt was paramount to the success of this evening and he was determined that he was going to have a good time.

He had to.

Morgan was on a date and if he allowed it to effect his evening in any way he would be forced to admit that it bothered him which was something David Hodges simply would not do.

He would never admit the crushing sense of disappointment he had felt closing around his heart when she had told him with a beaming smile that Finn had set her up on a blind date with one of Moreno's vice buddies. He refused to acknowledge how much it got under his skin when she told him they were going to one of the best restaurants in town. Greg's half-hearted invitation had been exactly what he needed as distraction even if he did suspect it had a lot more to do with the fact that Sara was busy than the fact that he was the company Greg actually wanted to keep.

Nevertheless, his choice of shirt was not a decision to be taken lightly. His fingers drifted half-heartedly through the rail, the fabric brushing his fingertips and awakening the scent of the fabric softener. He decided he wore black far too much, he had heard it was slimming and mysterious but by brightening up his wardrobe he had hoped to brighten up his outlook. It was too early to tell if it was working, especially considering his natural instinct was to reach for the black shirt every time. He eventually settled on a deep blue checked shirt, eyeing himself critically in the mirror.

He looked good in blue, a fact he was aware of but had ceased to unveil to the world as yet. The deep blue tone brought out the colour in his eyes, something he knew was one of his best features. Tonight was the night, tonight he intended to go out in his blue shirt and wow the women seizing the chance to create a night out story to rival Morgan's date story by miles.

With a self-assured smile he swirled the brandy he had prepared for himself in the glass and let the liquid slowly slide down his throat. He wandered to his dresser, his eyes falling to the long discarded bottle of 'Rosa Mysteriousa' that had offended Morgan's sense of smell. A part of him was tempted to wear it tonight in defiance. She would never know of course so it would have been a redundant protest and even he had to admit that she was probably right about it.

His rather long-winded internal debate about his choice of cologne was rudely interrupted by his cell phone cutting through the room with its shrill tones. He knew it was his mother immediately, he had assigned her her own ringtone so that he could ignore her whenever he needed to but he felt a strange need to humour her at this moment while he waited for time to pass.

"Hello Mother" He answered with an obligatory eye roll despite the fact that he was alone.

"I have an invitation here for Julia's wedding, did you get one?" She questioned as he paced impatiently.

"Yes, I did" He sighed. His cousin Julia had once been his arch nemesis. As children they were always pitted against each other as a result of the terrible rivalry between their mothers. It had been no surprise to him to find a handcrafted invitation land in his mailbox inviting him to the lavish ceremony. She would be ecstatic at the opportunity to show off how much better she was than him. His mother took a deep breath and he steeled himself for the rant about to ensue.

"Well... if she thinks that I-"

"Mother, can we talk about this in the morning? I am on my way out..." He cut her off intentionally. He was in no mood to listen to her well rehearsed monologue of sibling rivalry.

"Do you have a date?" She responded, a little too hopefully for his liking.

He wandered to the window, gazing out at the traffic passing by and the lights of the strip glowing in the distance and let out a long sigh. He had promised to tell her the truth way back when she had found out that he wasn't dating Morgan. As they faced certain death he had spilled every truth on his lips and swore that he wouldn't lie to her again and yet he knew from the tone in her voice and the way it awoke bitterness and annoyance in him that he was not going to tell her the truth about this evening. He needed to maintain his air of control and self-assurance if he was to enjoy his night and having his mother lecture him on the dating game was not going to do anything but destroy his self-esteem.

"Yes, mother. I have a date and I am going to be late" He muttered, taking another sip of his drink. "I don't just spend my weekends at home playing scrabble, you know"

He rolled his eyes again realising that a lot of the time he did spend his weekends alone playing scrabble. There was a reason why he volunteered for all the overtime at the lab.

"Well you don't keep her waiting" She demanded "and make sure you pay...and don't wear that awful cologne"

Before he could protest she had hung up and he was faced with the silence of his home and his reflection staring back at him judgementally. He found it rather shameful that even his own reflection judged him but the truth was, he liked his life. He liked his quiet weekends where he didn't feel the pressure to be witty or charming. It was exhausting at times keeping up the façade of work Hodges.

That didn't mean that he wasn't looking forward to letting his hair down and having some fun for a change but it did mean that he had to stop himself from telling his mother he had a date every time he tried to get her off the phone.

As he was about to head out of the door his phone chirped happily indicating a text message. He slid it out of his pocket with a smile, expecting Morgan boasting about her date or Greg asking where he was.

His heart fell when he read the message. He had been blown off in favour of a beautiful woman. He didn't really blame Greg, he would have probably done the same, but it didn't stop him from feeling incredibly let down as he turned back to his apartment and threw himself on the sofa.

He resigned himself to a night flicking through the channels and yelling at Grey's Anatomy while tormenting his own mind with thoughts of Morgan on her date having fun.


End file.
